


Jean's Quest

by Tarlan



Series: Last Thought [2]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan lets his senses guide him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jean's Quest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for those who wanted a sequel to Last Thought.

When he awoke he shuddered in the coldness of the pre-dawn air. The fire had burned down to embers and a fine mist covered the surrounding landscape and his own clothing, leaving him feeling damp and shivery. It took a moment or two to get the fire burning warmer, smoke rising thickly from the damp branches, and he moved upwind to avoid inhaling it. His rucksack held the makings of a meager breakfast and he only stopped shaking once he had his hands wrapped around a mug of black coffee and the fire blazing.

Logan was still unsure why he had come to this lonely place because they had searched all along the shoreline last time, when he found Scott's visor floating amid the levitating rocks and stones. All he knew was that it was his last connection to Scott, the last place where he knew Scott had been alive. As the sun finally rose, he packed up his belongings and kicked out the fire before walking along the shore once more. He knew by memory the exact spot where he and Storm had found Jean, and he closed his eyes. He could hear the waves lapping up against the lake shore, the rustle of a small creature burrowing into the rocky ground and the tiny plop of water as a fish momentarily breached the surface. Ahead he could hear a bird, could imagine the beat of its wings as it dived towards the surface of the lake in search of food. He let his senses turn him, inhaling deeply before setting his feet upon an imaginary path, uncaring of the cold water spilling over the top of his boots and seeping inside. He dropped his backpack onto the shore and continued forward. The water rose to his knees, then his thighs but still he moved onwards, following his senses, and the faint call of his heart and mind.

The flickering sensations on the edge of his senses grew with each passing step, stronger and more vibrant, filled with sense memories that he had consciously ignored in the past yet subconsciously attuned to his soul. Scott. He could feel him in this lonely place as a dim beacon that was calling to him, drawing him ever deeper into the lake until Logan was forced to swim. He stopped, treading water as the pull drew him downwards, and took a deep breath before sliding beneath the surface. Powerful kicks of his feet and strong arms powered his way into the murkiness, his eyes now open as he searched. His hand brushed over something solid but beneath it he could make out a shadowy figure.

Scott. It had to be Scott.

Following the edge of whatever separated him from Scott, he felt his feet touch the silt bottom of the lake, feet momentarily tangling in tendrils of plants that thrived despite the dimness of sunlight penetrating to this depth. His lungs were burning now, desperate to replenish the oxygen and expel the used breath, and though he could not die from drowning, Logan knew it would be a painful fate he would live over and over until his body was pulled from the water. With one last act of desperation, he pushed against the barrier that was keeping him from Scott, and saw it crumble. Bubbles burst all around him, heading swiftly to the surface, and Logan wrapped his hand around Scott's arm and pulled. They rose swiftly within the curtain of bubbles, and Logan gasped for breath as his head breached the surface. He gulped in two more breaths before rotating the unresponsive body in his arms, wanting to see with his eyes what his other senses had already told him. It was Scott...but not breathing. Tipping back Scott's head, he pressed their mouths together, forcing in one breath, and then another, and another.

The weak flurry of hands against him made him sob as Scott wrenched his mouth aside. Logan held the man close, feeling Scott's head loll against his shoulder, and he kicked harder to draw them both onto their backs, his hand wrapped tightly around Scott as Logan swam towards the shore. Scott's waterlogged body was a dead-weight and Logan used the last of his reserves to drag them both from the water. He lay on his back for a long time, staring up at the cloudy sky while catching his breath before finally turning onto his side. Scott was beside him, with his eyes closed and his face lax in unconsciousness or sleep. Leaning up on one elbow, Logan stared at him, eyes roaming the contours of a face that he thought never to see again in life. Looking beyond Scott, he could see his backpack maybe twenty feet away, where he had dropped it earlier. The small tidal forces on the lake had the water lapping almost to the backpack and Logan groaned, aware that he would have to move and retrieve it before it got wet. He picked it up just before a stronger wave lapped the shore, and shivered as the cool breeze wrapped around his cold wet skin and soaked clothing.

He pulled on the backpack before hefting Scott over his shoulder in a parody of a fireman's lift, and carrying him back to last night's makeshift camp, cursing himself for kicking out the fire earlier. The sun was still rising and Logan could feel the increasing warmth but he knew they both needed to get out of the wet clothing, if only for the sake of comfort. It took only a few minutes to set the fire blazing again. He set about stripping Scott and wrapping him in the thin aluminum blanket that he had stowed in his backpack before removing his own sodden clothing. Scott remained unresponsive throughout but Logan could see the slight rise and fall of his chest.

"What did you do to him, Jean?" Logan asked softly.

He thought of the barrier that had surrounded Scott like a shield. Had she simply wanted to protect him? Had she hidden him away, safe from harm? And yet, it had not taken more than one forceful push to break through that barrier. Could anyone have released Scott, or had Jean known that it would be him? With her last thought she had told him Scott was alive, and the very nature of that thought was a quest specifically set for him, as if she had known how deep his feelings went for both of them. For Jean and for Scott.

Reaching out, he stroked along Scott's face, willing his eyes to open; Scott's skin was slowly warming to his touch but he remained obstinately asleep or comatose. Like a sleeping beauty, Logan thought cynically, but smiled as he recalled Jean's love of fables and bedtime stories, of princes saving the princess from dragons and other evil creatures. He leaned over, feeling foolish and yet too aware of how much he wanted to touch Scott. He brushed his lips against Scott's, no longer in a parody of a kiss. This time he let his lips soften and his tongue trace the shape and texture of Scott's skin. This time he slipped inside to taste and run his tongue over the smoothness of teeth, gently opening Scott's mouth until Logan could kiss him deeper. The mouth moved against him, a deeper breath taken through Scott's nose and exhaled as a soft moan that reverberated upon their lips. Scott's eyelashes fluttered but years of practice kept his eyes closed. A hand cupped Logan's cheek and he felt fingertips slide through his sideburns to his slightly bristled cheek. Scott slid his mouth away and breathed a name almost as a sigh.

"Logan?"

Swallowing hard, Logan answered just as softly, whispering Scott's name.

"Jean?"

Logan gave a ragged sigh. "Dead."

Instead of pulling away, Scott leaned in and pressed their lips together, sharing a sob of grief as they held on tight, bringing them back almost full circle to the grief-filled embrace on the plane after Jean's first _death_. They had found consolation in each other then, and yet this time seemed different. This time the anger was gone leaving only the grief of loss and the comfort of discovery. Their bodies moved together, chest to chest, hip to hip, drawing comfort, mouths devouring each other and swallowing the sobs of pleasure and grief as they came in turn with the heat of release seeping between close-pressed bellies.

Afterwards, wrapped around each other and with the thin survival blanket covering both their naked bodies, they drifted into an exhausted sleep. Yet as Logan slipped away, the feel of Scott lying warm and alive in his arms released another block in his mind, and he heard more of Jean's last thoughts.

"I can't be saved...but I saved him for you," she whispered inside his mind, and as the years turned to decades, with no sign of Scott aging even a single day, Logan knew how much she had loved them both.

END


End file.
